I was so looking forward to this book.  The excerpt on the author's website created an insatiable urge to read more.

I'm not entirely sure the whole book lived up to this promise, however.  I enjoyed it; I read it fast; it's very exciting; fast-paced; hot sex.  I liked Noelle's cleverness - I like her bravery - I like her as a character.  No TSTL moments for her!

But.

1)  David.  Stock, stock, stock.  Mary.  Stock.  Colonel Munroe.  Stock.  Alistair Maclean was writing these characters with more depth in the 1950s.  (He did so love variants on Mary for the names of his blonde, brave, beautiful, loving womenfolk.  And have I mentioned his tortured hero with scars and limp complex?)  I love Alistair Maclean, btw.    I enjoyed the book.  I just would've liked a bit more originality on these particular characters.

2) The Swarm.  Not knowing their broadest aims just made the whole thing completely unbelievable for me and it meant the villains, particularly Owen, were only able to be stock villains.  A whole layer of complexity could have been added if these terrorists had some kind of aim.  Terrorist organisations don't usually start up to kill and terrorise for no reason.  They aren't loose associations of sadistic psychopaths.  They have a cause.  (I'm not saying they don't end up a bit like that on occasion!)  If the Swarm is more like a criminal organisation then why the fuck can't it be called that?  It just doesn't work for me.  It's a very simplistic definition of good and evil that left me unsatisfied, and I think we - writers generally - can do better.  I would certainly have preferred (this is probably my soapbox talking!) some equivalence drawn between what happens to Noelle near the end, and what is known as 'coercion' and sanctioned by the US government.  Because there didn't seem to be much difference (I will admit to spotting one).

3a) The ending, part one.  I felt it was very abrupt; I would have liked it to be more cinematic, more dramatic.  It was all too even with the rest of the book.  In a way, I think the unrelenting pace developed into a fault there.

3b) The ending, part two.  So they love each other.  Happy ever after.  Damn it, I wanted some evidence that it took them a little time to heal, even if they did it together.  I wanted an epilogue!  *stamps foot*

4) Some clunky writing that could've been straightened out.  No, it wasn't necessary for sales.  But this could have been a better book, and I think it is a shame that time wasn't taken by author, agent and editor to make it so.

In summary, the best thing about this book, its unputdownable quality, is probably its worst fault, too - because it led to things being overlooked that could have lifted the book, quality-wise.

Poor old dog, I just don't think he's going to get any better.  

I am musically ignorant.  This state is not going to last long, however.  I dislike being ignorant about anything.

Interesting programme on BBC4, about the child hero in fantasy.  Apparently fantasy helps us inadequates who worry that their parents didn't love them enough and that terrible things will happen to them, escape the real world.  It was a pity they didn't talk a little more about how the child hero returns, usually, to face his real world, not just to escape from it.  Concerns I had at the beginning of the programme were addressed during its course. 

Nice to see Alan Garner get some recognition, and Will Self was, as always, charmingly dismissive of and superior to everything.  If he wasn't so funny, he'd be very irritating.

Unfortunately it did not make P. better understand my way of thinking.  Fantasy's for children who won't grow up, he says.  I say, read some, and find out for yourself.  He says he can't be bothered.  I should just dismiss it and agree to differ - which he would agree with - but so much of me is so desperate for his approval that it's hard to do that.  While he actively wants me to think for myself and would be appalled if he thought I was doing or thinking things to gain his approval, my default position is to seek it.  I have to work on that.

Dog is kind of better, but sadder and more pulled-down than he was when he was actively suffering.  So not out of the woods yet.

Much as I hate giving Portillo anything (even one viewing figure), this was just too interesting to pass up.  Plus, I thought I might get to the Were you still up for Portillo? moment (I did!  And I loved it all over again.  I still have my Daily Mirror poster of ousted senior Tories.  I know, I'm sad.  But that cheers me up whenever I look at it).

Points:

1) All the Tories* have fat necks and chins that bulge out over their shirt collars.  Pigs!

2) All the old Tories, including Portillo (and he didn't flinch from the knowledge, for which I applaud him) were, and are, shits of the very first order.  They said so in their own words.  Or in Michael Howard's case, their own silence.

3) They STILL think that, if their message had been more effectively presented, that they could have won in 1997.  *headdesk, headdesk, HEADDESK*

4) William Hague said that Thatcher was the greatest peace-time Prime Minister we've ever had.  To which I shout, CLEMENT ATTLEE, CLEMENT ATTLEE, CLEMENT ATTLEE!  All respect I had for William Hague (which admittedly was not much) is now gone.  *HEADDESK*

5) Portillo is the only one who has been able to admit that the Tories between 1989 and 2005 were utterly, utterly, utterly wrong about practically everything, and nasty, dislikeable and arrogant to boot.  I offer him a measure of respect.  And that is something I never thought I'd say.

6) Today I have a sore throat from shouting at the TV so much.

*Tories = thieves.  They don't deserve the respect implied in calling them Conservatives.

Intellectually I can see that conservatism (small c is deliberate) is a valuable and useful philosophy.  But I am tribally bound to Labour and socialism and everything Tory makes my head explode with rage.  It's not a very pretty sight.

Other news: dog is still doing well.  Yay!

There's hope yet, apparently.  If the new medicine a) works and b) doesn't make him sick.

He's so old though, it's really just a race to see what will get him first - legs going, liver failure, kidney failure, heart failure, a small infection.

But he's sitting up, enjoying life, asking for love, walks and food.  It's good to see.

 I've just noticed that Chocky has grey eyebrows now to match his grey muzzle.

He seems slightly better today.

Enough with the self-pity.  

A friend came for lunch today and brought her new baby, and it is adorable.  And I don't even like babies.  I thought I might hit by a biological lightning strike, but it didn't happen, thankfully!

I've been reading old Enid Blytons and Pullein-Thompsons - needed a bit of comfort last week!

Also finished draft 2 of a short story, and the first draft of another.

On the not-so-good side, my darling little dog (see picture) has a cough which could be anything and which if it doesn't clear up in 2-4 days will end his life.  This is not happy-making, but he is 16 in Labrador years, and 128 in human years.  It's one hell of a life!

1)      I have felt so, so broken this week.  I'm broken in ways that won't ever be fixed, and I'm only just beginning to realise it.  

2)     When I fuck up, my immediate reaction is "He won't love me anymore."  I know why I react like this.  But after 12 years I really should trust him when he says it won't happen that way.  He can't prove himself any more than he has done and continues to do; I can't trust any further.   I think, gradually, I will get better at this.  But by god I am being slow about it.

3)      It hurts me when people say they're going to call - and sound like they mean it - and don't.  

4)      The Today programme said today that only 10 % of people have 'happy' childhoods.  That's sad, and scary.

5)      I cannot get beyond my high score in Tetris and I keep dying at about a quarter of the way there.  This is annoying.

This came in the same batch of library books as Gossip Girl and Getting Rid of Matthew.  I didn't think I would finish it.  I was wrong.  And I was pleased, to find out that I hadn't been quite mad that day in the library after all.

Back cover:  

Three couples, friends and neighbours...Tom, lazy and charming, looks after the children and thinks about writing a novel while his ambitious wife Sarah pursues her career as a journalist.  Nat is married to the unstylish Cassie, who spends her life in jodhpurs, but although an ill-matched couple they have a strong and enduring marriage.  Laure, the beautiful half-French wife of Gerard, is being shut out of his life because of financial worries.

One winter's evening, Laure and Tom dance together at a local ball, and suddenly a world of possibilities opens up between them.  Can they forget the troubles of their own home lives and find a new excitement, a new solace?  It's only a game, after all, not for real...But playing with fire can hurt, as they both find out.

I was impressed by sheer good writing at the beginning.  I read the first chapter, and then I read the end, (I know, I know) and then I read the rest.  It's a bit predictable, but then, it's that kind of book.  The characters were all well-rendered, and all except Nat entirely believable.  People really do live in the upper-middle class bubble depicted here.  Sometimes I wanted to give them all a smack, just to tell them to get over themselves, but this book is a Black Swan paperback and all the characters in every Black Swan are like this, so I can't say I'm much surprised; it is what I expected when I picked up the book.  Each character was recognisable by his or her voice, and Appleyard does a great job making each character sympathetic, even selfish Sarah and bullying Gerard.  The way she renders Laure's speech is quite brilliant, Laure speaks like someone who grew up in France, speaking English colloquially but very correctly, with few contractions and a precision of grammar.  Some of the questions Appleyard raises about relationships are very interesting, particularly the Tom and Sarah marriage.  How should families constitute themselves in the modern world?  Is violence against women ever forgivable?  How do children cope when their families are falling apart?  Etc.

Reservation - one character singlehandedly stops a terrorist from hijacking a plane, which is then a cue for a long didactic passage about terrorism and its effects.  It's just not very believable, plonked in the middle of the book, with the only repercussions seeming to be a) the hero is teased a lot by his children, and b) one character compares himself to the hero and finds himself wanting.  But the hero himself seems totally unshaken and unaffected.

So in summary, lots of skill, a little bit of thought-provoking, but in the end, this book was a predictable, light-ish read - not a beach book, but not a great work of literature, either.

I've read all Victoria Clayton's books, since I picked up Out of Love at the library when I was fourteen.  I still prefer that and Past Mischief to any of her more recent works.  I loved the seriousness treated with a light touch of those first two, but it seems to me that the real thoughtfulness has been left aside now.

I enjoyed A Girl's Guide to Kissing Frogs - it was funny, Marigold was engaging, I liked the glimpse into a dancer's life.  I couldn't work out why it was set in 1982.  That just seemed arbitrary.  All the action could have been set in the 1950s.  The end was predictable, and there is one plot element deserving of some real discussion that didn't really get it, and which therefore left me thinking, "Is that it?  They all live happily ever after even that revelation?  Er...it wouldn't work like that.  Dumb book."

I don't like Clayton's recent, romantic-but-impractical heroines, either.  Give me Diana and Miranda anyway - even Min.

The plot (from the back cover): 

When Matthew, Helen's lover of the past four years, finally decides to leave his wife Sophie (and their two daughters) and move into Helen's flat, she should be over the moon.  The only trouble is, she doesn't want him any more.  Now she has to figure out how to get rid of him...

Plan A: Stop shaving your armpits.  And your bikini line.  Buy incontinence pads and leave them lying around.  Stop having sex with him.  

Plan B: Accidentally on purpose bump into his wife Sophie.  Give yourself a fake name and identity.  Befriend Sophie and actually begin to really like her.  Snog Matthew's son (who's the same age as you by the way.  You're not a paedophile.)  Befriend Matthew's children.  Unsuccessfully.  Watch your whole plan go absolutely horribly wrong.  

Getting Rid of Matthew isn't as easy as it seems, but along the way Helen will forge an unlikely friendship, find real love and realise tthat nothing ever goes exactly to plan...

I picked this up from the library, the same trip that netted me Gossip Girl.  I must've been in some kind of blue fit that day.  I didn't read the whole back cover, either - just the first paragraph.  

I stopped reading on page 5.

I turned to the back cover.  I read it.  I thought, why the hell doesn't she just tell him to get lost?  Then I thought, does having hairy armpits really make you unattractive to the man who is supposed to love you?  Then I thought, why give yourself a fake name?  Then I got cross at the implication lying behind that use of 'paedophile'.  Matthew's son could be 16 and Helen would not be a paedophile if she did a lot more than snog him.

I stopped reading because if Helen was so unhappy about Matthew having a wife and family, she shouldn't have got involved in the first place.  If she didn't realise how it would be (I didn't bother reading that far to find out), and kept going because she was so in love (I don't believe, really, in this kind of selfish, self-centred love.  If you love someone, you don't tear them apart in that way.), that's more understandable, but why didn't she just end it when she stopped being in love (as she obviously had)?

It was just...stupid.

Full disclosure: I know first-hand the effect adultery can have on a family.  I do tend to be prejudiced against heroines who choose married men.  

It was my bad decision to pick up this book in the first place, but when I realised the central stupidity and passivity of the heroine (why can't she just say no to Matthew moving in?  Why?) I couldn't be bothered even to try.  

Next time I will read the back cover more carefully.

No spoilers here.  

I stopped reading on page 15.  

I cannot read about these shallow, trashy, brain-dead, adjectivally-challenged, super-rich poseurs.

I love YA and I love trashy books.  But this is dire.

Actually I liked this one better than Kushiel's Dart.  I felt Jacqueline Carey had really got into her stride, the writing was freer, and the shape of the story was better.  The pace was pretty good too, apart from one longish boring bit in the middle where Phedre tries to get back to Ysandre.  I admire the realisation of the world, and I admire the consistency of Carey's beautiful style - she never let it drop for an instant.  

I have three major objections:

1) There's a definite lack of Hawt in comparison with Kushiel's Dart.
2) This book has the exact same plot structure as the first, with the same elements occurring in the same places in the story.
3) Somehow I never felt that Phedre would lose.  It would have been more interesting if Melisande had won the game, and the next book centred on Phedre winning it back. 

I did like it though.  Some things that weren't clear to me in the first book were made clear, here; and Carey provides a credible explanation, built into the worldbuilding, as to why Phedre's patrons are not more wary of her.

I'd certainly read the next four books.  I have a feeling that the Imriel books might actually be more interesting than Phedre's story.  Maybe smaller in scope, but more interesting just the same.

Things I liked about the Twilight Series:



1) Jacob Black
2) Charlie
3) Sense of humour
4) Pace and story - boy, Stephenie Meyer keeps you reading
5) The connection to the land, and the Quileute legends and stories
6) Allusions and references to Wuthering Heights etc, particularly skilful in Eclipse
7) The very, very accomplished handling of Jacob's feelings for Bella, the implication that he's imprinted on her, and his unselfish decision not to tell her this, even thought it cements his bereftness.
8) The end of Eclipse - Stephenie Meyer doesn't fix up a painless resolution.  Jacob is damaged, and he isn't going to get over any time soon.  Bella doesn't escape the bad parts of her choice.

Things I didn't like about the Twilight Series:

1) Bella.  How bloody irritating she is, and how selfish.  Do I mean selfish?  She realises how selfish she has been and tries to put it right, but at the same time she is so blind.  And thick.  She eats meat.  Why can't Edward eat human?  I'm not saying that there is no difference, only that she doesn't ever seem to consider it.  She processes facts, makes plans to get what she wants, and asks questions, but she doesn't go into the ethics quite as thoroughly as I would like.  She cries over the Volturi taking all those people, but never considers actually doing anything about it.  And in New Moon she is so whiny.  Isabella - Wuthering Heights - Isabella Linton.  Whiny and tragic.  Here's hoping for Breaking Dawn.
2) Edward.  Self-righteous and sneakily vindictive.  And oh-so-perfect.  Ugh.
3) Bella's motivation for moving to Forks.  Felt thin to me.
4) Atmosphere - actually I didn't mind the atmosphere, but everybody kept telling me characterful the rain was.  Well, maybe, if you live in central USA.  Not if you live in Britain.  So I missed a lot of the claustrophobic feeling by not actually noticing the rain descriptions.
5) Bella's final decision to not be human.  I am so not happy about that idea.  It just seems - weird.
6) Vampire glamour.  Where are the same sex vampires?  I want hypersexuality and same sex vampire relationships!!!
7) Gaps and holes.  If the vampires are so powerful and beautiful and deadly, then why the hell haven't they just taken over the world and started to farm humans?

So am I going to read Breaking Dawn when it comes out?  Oh yes.  Because these books have the magic, however irritating they are in places.  They are like Harry Potter.  They work.  I could point out plot holes and annoyances and deconstruct the books till the cows came home, but it wouldn't change anything.  They just work.

Bought Elizabeth Bear's Blood and Iron last week, but it hasn't arrived yet.  Bah,  humbug.

Had to stop reading Daddy's Girls (Tasmina Perry) this morning, when Camilla decides to run for parliament purely for power and not out of principle.  And for the Tories.  Which figures, but still.  Skipped to the end and find she gets her come-uppance rather nicely.  Bloody Tories.  But I still don't want to read the middle.  Too, too long.  Too boring.  I really shouldn't have read the end.  Bonkbusters just aren't as good as they used to be.  I think I'll just go and re-read Polo.  Although I must admit to a fondness for early Louise Bagshawe and latest Louise Bagshawe (loathe the middle period).  I really love bonkbusters with no sex.  That is a cool concept.

I now seem to be writing three stories - one a literary short story, the second a novel involving post-apocalyptic lesbian vampires (I don't even like sodding vampires) and the third a  fantasy based on Cola di Rienzi and the Black Death, also a novel.  This is stupid.

Last week's reading list included Aristocrats by Stella Tillyard - very good book, readable and interesting, full of characters that haven't really died and become past, like Charles James Fox, staring arrogantly out at you from his picture as a baby...Also surprised by how recognisable the Lennox sisters are - from what P. has told me of his childhood, his parents and the Lennoxes would have had common ground, manners that they all recognised.  P. is of course distantly related to Fox...I don't know what he's doing with me really.

Worked all weekend!